


Dead Patches of Grass

by moonflovers



Series: BokuAka Week 6 2018 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!, ハイパープロジェクション演劇「ハイキュー!!」| Hyper Projection Play "Haikyuu!!" RPF
Genre: Abusive Parents, BokuAka Week, BokuAka Week 2018, First Meetings, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Injury, M/M, Pre-Slash, Rated T for language, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflovers/pseuds/moonflovers
Summary: Day One: Summer Break // BokuAka Week 6Summer break isn’t a pleasant experience for Bokuto Koutarou. It’s lonely and boring and a pain in his ass. But perhaps, after hitting a boy with his serves, it’ll change.





	Dead Patches of Grass

**Author's Note:**

> I AM LATE BUT I DONT CARE AND I MADE THIS IN A RUSH LMAO
> 
> enjoy uwu

Koutarou doesn’t enjoy summer break. It’s hot and sticky and most of his friends are going out of the country or going to other regions to visit their relatives. For him, summer break means being alone in a house that isn’t really much of a home anymore.

After fidgeting in his futon for a few moments, he finally decides to go to the nearby park to practice setting or just walk around with no plan in mind. He changes into a bright yellow shirt and black shorts that almost covers his knees then he slips his running shoes on. He takes his volleyball and quietly leaves his room.

The way Koutarou could describe his house is dark. Sure, the lights all work and the curtains are drawn back but it feels as if there’s a shadow hanging over him, like there’s a draft in the house that sends chills down his spine. And if he doesn’t follow the rules, the shadow will try to kill him. As he carefully navigates his way down, he can feel his heart pounding in his chest, causing him to shakily clench his fists. Just as he opens the front door, he hears something move behind him.

“Koutarou, where are you going?”

Koutarou bites his lip and faces back, seeing his mom looking at him in disapproval. She has black hair that cascades in soft curls, reaching her collars and golden eyes that Koutarou used to describe as golden honey. Whenever she speaks, all eyes are drawn to her, some out of respect and some out of the sheer astonishment at the way she holds herself; Koutarou can only look at her in fear now.

“I’m just going to the park, mom,” he says softly, feeling his blood run cold. “I’ll be back before dinner. I promise.”

His mom sneers at him and takes a step forward. “You should be studying. You’re going to be a first year in a prestigious high school. You know me and your father expect a lot from you,” she says.

Koutarou swallows the bile that rises in his throat and silently sends a prayer to any god who still cares for him. “I know. I’ll only be gone for a while. Please?” He just needs to get out of the house. He hates being lonely and at least, if he’s in the park, he’ll be able to see people and maybe he’ll even make friends with someone.

His mother clicks his tongue but looks down at her wristwatch. “Be back in two hours, Koutarou. If not...” she trails off, giving him a cold stare.

“I understand. Thank you,” he bows down then leaves the house, running as fast as he can, feeling tears threaten to spill from his eyes. But he bites his lip and forces them not to come because honestly, it’s been five years; he should be used to it by now.

When he arrives at the park, there are children running around while their parents or siblings watch over them. He picks a nice spot where not a lot of people are and starts tossing the ball above his head. When he was a first year in middle school, volleyball became his solace, a place of protection. His parents didn’t mind as long as he still got high scores. He would practice as long as he could before sprinting back to his house, barely missing his curfew. If he had to be honest, volleyball saved him.

After a while, he decides that tossing to nobody isn’t a lot of fun so he settles on doing serves. He goes to a tree and runs back, planning to test how accurate his serves are. He holds the ball in his hand and tosses it to the sky. He takes a step back and runs towards it and raises his arm, ready to swing and-

 _Fuck_.

The ball hits a boy who’s sitting under the shade of a somewhat far tree (his accuracy may be shit but his power is _deadly_ ). The boy glares at him and Koutarou decides that if he dies, it’s totally his fault anyways since the boy is sporting a nasty bruise on his cheek.

“I’m sorry!” Koutarou says, kneeling down in front of the boy, trying to assess if he did any more damage. “I can pay you if you need to go to a hospital or something! I was practicing my accuracy when I was serving and I didn’t know that I could hit this far!”

The boy softens his glare at him and Koutarou realises that he’s absolutely beautiful. Like, the head turning type of beautiful. He has messy black hair that looks incredibly soft and blue eyes that seem to be able to look into the depths of his soul; the boy is absolutely captivating.

The boy sighs. “Your power must be very good then,” he says which absolutely baffles Koutarou. “I’m guessing you’re a volleyball player.”

At this, the Koutarou beams at him, forgetting that he hit the boy wish his killer serve. “Yeah! I’m a regular on my team- I mean I was but I hope I can get a spot again since I’m going to go to Fukorodani Academy now! I hear that it’s a really good school even though they’ve only won Nationals two times.” He says, waving his hands around unable to contain his excitement.

“Oh. I’m still in Middle school but it’ll be my last year,” the beautiful boy with a bruise he caused says. “I’m Akaashi Keiji.”

“Nice to meet you, Akaashi! My name is Bokuto Koutarou. Say, do you play volleyball?” Koutarou sits down beside the boy while spinning the ball in his hands. “I feel like you do. Have I ever played against you before?”

Akaashi shrugs. “I play volleyball but I’m only the reserve setter. And we never have.” he says.

Koutarou hums and enjoys the silence, gazing at the children who are running around, yelling and having fun. He remembers that he used to have fun like that, screaming and creating trouble before his parents started to throw all their expectations at him.

“Bokuto-san, do you want to play volleyball together? I could set for you.”

Koutarou gapes at Akaashi, feeling as if he had just met the boy of his dreams. Maybe he just did. Maybe Akaashi would become an important person to him. Maybe Akaashi feels the same way.

“Really? Are you sure, Akaashi?” He asks, already standing up. “You want to play? With me? Even if I gave you that bruise which will definitely look ugly tomorrow?”

Akaashi grimaces but nonetheless nods anyways. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to,” he says, taking the ball from Koutarou’s hands. “But I can’t promise you any good tosses, okay?”

“That’s fine! I don’t care! Let’s go, ‘kaashi!”

They don’t get it right the first few times Akaashi tosses to him; sometimes it’s too short, too early, too low or a bit too high. But Koutarou manages to hit them all anyways, if not just by a bit. Slowly, Akaashi adapts to Koutarou and the tosses he sends are better and easier to hit. But the younger boy still looks frustrated, like he knows that his tosses aren’t the perfect kind of toss.

“It’s okay, Akaashi! You can’t expect to sync up with me the first time, right?” Koutarou tells him. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Akaashi scowls at his hands before turning at him again, a fire lit in his eyes. “Let’s do it again,” he says with such conviction, Koutarou can only nod. “I’ll get it right this time. This time, it will be perfect.”

As Koutarou positions himself, he notices the way Akaashi holds himself. It feels more confident this time and there’s an air of regality that surrounds the boy. For some reason, Koutarou thinks that if he ever met Akaashi on the other side of the net, he would find him to be a great opponent. Koutarou watches the ball fly up and he quickly scrambles to receive it, sending it to where Akaashi stands. The ball starts falling in slow motion and Koutarou can feel that, yes indeed, this ball will be perfect.

Akaashi sets it and Koutarou rushes towards it and jumps while eyeing the ball. His hand connects with it and it goes down quickly with a satisfying thud. He looks at the ball with wide eyes and feels something like excitement rise up in him. His hand stings and he knows that it’s turning red and he knows that if anyone who knew anything about volleyball saw them, they’d be looking at them in awe. He turns to Akaashi who looks incredibly pleased and tackles him.

“Akaaaaaaaaaashi! I think that was the best ball I’ve ever hit! Are you seriously only the reserve setter? Holy cow, that was so good! Akaashi, I think you’re the best setter I’ve ever played with.” Koutarou declares.

Keiji is smiling now and his cheeks are now tinged with pink. “Bokuto-san, I’m glad you think that but could you please get off me?” He asks. “Not only have you hurt my cheek, you’ve also caused harm to my back.”

Koutarou stands up and helps Akaashi to his feet whose face is now red, apologising profusely. He likes Akaashi. They didn’t really get to talk much to each other but Koutarou could tell that they play well together, the way a setter would toss to their ace.

Then, Koutarou remembers the words of his mother and estimates that he probably only has fifteen or ten minutes left to rush back to his house. He hopes he’s right; he really can’t stand being screamed at for a long period of time.

“I’ve got to go, Akaashi! I’m really sorry. Uh, do you have a pen or something?” Koutarou asks, twitching as he readies himself to run back to his house.

“I don’t have one but I have my phone?” Akaashi takes his phone our from his pocket and unlocks it. He hands it to Koutarou and he goes to his contacts to add his number.

“You can text me if you ever want to play again. I live nearby and I really like playing with you!” Koutarou says, ignoring the way his face is turning red. Their hands only brushed a bit. He shouldn’t be so flustered over that. And yet here he is, trembling because of a single brush of their hands. “I hope you text me.”

Once Koutarou gives the phone back, he notices that the younger boy is absolutely red, looking like he wants to pass out. _It’s cute_ , Bokuto thinks. _He’s cute. I think I like him in that way. Maybe he likes me too. I don’t know. Gods, he’s cute._

“I’ll text you, Bokuto-san. I enjoyed playing with you too,” Akaashi murmurs, looking down at the ground. “I’ll see you around.”

“Great! See you, Akaashi!” He says, already running towards his house.

“Wait!” Koutarou stops in his tracks and turns back to Akaashi who seems more composed now.

“You’re a very admirable player, Bokuto-san. I hope someday we’ll play against each other,” Akaashi declares.

“Ohoho? We’ll see, Akaashi! Who knows, maybe you’ll be my setter in Fukorodani next year,” Koutarou teases.

Keiji gives him a small smile. “We’ll see. Bye, Bokuto-san.”

Koutarou waves at him and runs again, thinking that maybe, summer break won’t be so lonely anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> dont tell me this isn’t how they most likely met. this is now canon.
> 
> anyways, when akaashi saw bokuto, he immediately thought that he wants to touch his hair because who the actual fuck tries to style their hair like that??????
> 
> scream at me on [twitter](%E2%80%9Ctwitter.com/gloomflovvers%E2%80%9D) | donate to my [ko-fi](%E2%80%9Cko-fi.com/gloomflovvers%E2%80%9D)


End file.
